


Snapshots of a Fallen Empire

by Bythoseburningembers



Series: The Boy Of Prophecy [1]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Almost Dark Obi, Alternate Universe, Anakin Skywalker tries to be good, Angsty at first, BAMF Ahsoka Tano, BAMF Leia Organa, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Brotherhood, Child Luke Skywalker, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Ghost Qui-Gon Jinn, Force Healing, Gen, Gets progressively lighter later, Healing, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, Lesbian Ahsoka Tano, Lots of River Metaphors, Mentioned Qui-Gon Jinn, New Jedi Order, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Original Character(s), Padawans Everywhere, Padmé Amidala Lives, Pain, Past Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Past Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Platonic Relationships, Post-Order 66, Post-Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Ahsoka Tano, Sith Empire, Strong Female Characters, What Chosen One, Written in short scenes, Yoda is a Troll, baby luke and leia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24013264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bythoseburningembers/pseuds/Bythoseburningembers
Summary: Short scenes depicting Obi-wan Kenobi's life in the days after he rescues Anakin Skywalker from burning alive on Mustafar.
Relationships: Darth Sidious & Darth Vader, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Leia Organa, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Yoda, Padmé Amidala & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: The Boy Of Prophecy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1731859
Comments: 32
Kudos: 220





	1. The One on His Knees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Each chapter will be 1000 words or under. They're based from images. The image here is what I imagined happened after Yoda left Obi-wan alone in the Temple Post-Order 66 in Episode III. I'm pretty sure Obi-wan went to his knees and had to take a moment to reconcile what he was about to do with what had happened.

Obi-wan Kenobi had been plagued by nightmares since he was a child.

Qui-gon had affectionately called the night-terrors his “brooding friends.” After he had taken on an apprentice, they had started to come with less frequency, as if the surreal power of Anakin's intensity in the Force banished them. Obi-wan had been grateful for the small reprieve. Though nightmares were simply the result of a hard life and broody occupation, they had not made his nights any easier.

Now, standing in the empty hall of his shattered home, Obi-wan understood.

He had dreamed this monstrosity so many times. He had seen the Temple ravaged and burning, felt the heat of his despair sear past bone and sinew until it brought him to his knees. He had woken up screaming so many times… He half expected to do so now. To gasp awake in his bed aboard The Negotiator or on a battlefield or at the Temple. Even in the middle of a field somewhere. Like before. Like so many times before.

Maybe someone would hear. Maybe he was still a Padawan and Qui-gon would knock at his door with an emotion between worry and exasperation. Or he was a young Knight, and Bant would appear from his bedside, nagging him to swallow his medicine. Maybe he was still a general, and Cody would quietly enter his quarters with a cup of tea.

Maybe… Maybe Anakin was out there, waiting for him to wake up.

_Twisted by the Dark Side, young Skywalker has become. The boy you trained, gone he is._

Obi-wan’s hand clenched over his heart. The hard floors clang as he collapsed to one knee, gasping. He stared at the floor, noticed droplets of salty water splashing against the ground. His cheeks felt wet. Salt itched beneath his beard. _Anakin. Anakin._

Obi-wan set his jaw against the waves of disbelief that washed over him in a cold sweat. He _knew_ Anakin. He had raised the boy; he’d seen him whole and Light not more than a day before. Spent weeks and years with him before that. Anakin was brash and impulsive and reckless and aggressive, sometimes overly so, but he was not evil. He was not capable of murdering innocent children.

Was he?

Hot bile slithered up his throat. Obi-wan did not try to force it down. He vomited across the floor, finally succumbing to the cramps that had wracked his stomach since appearing on the Temple steps to see his home wrecked. The Force was screaming with death, pregnant with darkness.

_Send me to kill the Emperor. I will not kill Anakin._

After a moment, only clear acid came out. Obi-wan coughed and hacked past the blazing pain in his throat. Swiped a hand across his mouth and looked up. Yoda was gone. He had vanished to kill the Emperor, after looking at Obi-wan with such pity, such disappointment, such _reproach_. The Jedi Master could hardly blame him. Yoda had lived generations raising and cultivating the Jedi, only to see it felled by a man Obi-wan refused to kill. An outsider he had insisted on training, in his loyalty and naivete to another man that had scoffed at authority as a butterfly dances over mist.

His stomach roiled again, but there was nothing more to retch. His body was only reacting to the pain pounding him from every angle. The desecration of his home (The Clones had riddled the gardens and meditation mats and Youngling creche’s with blaster holes and blood) the massacre of his people (he could still feel his friend’s gasps of shock, no one had been ready for such betrayal, why hadn’t anyone ever expected this?) the Senate’s obvious delight at being turned into a dictatorship (what fools, the lot of them, what selfish, greedy _idiots_ ) and the evidence that his best friend was responsible for it all.

_Destroy the Sith, we must._

Yoda had said Anakin was dead. Every Jedi teaching agreed, and Obi-wan could not deny the ember of… Of rage that was starting to ignite in his chest. The grief and despair coalescing until red blurred at the edges of his vision.

Dooku. Ventress. Sifo-Dyas. Anakin.

How many Jedi would Fall in his lifetime? How many good souls would be corrupted by this Darth Sidious, sent down roads horrid and disgusting for peace? For justice? Obi-wan knew that was what each had wanted. Dooku had craved peace more than anything. Sifo-Dyas had been a strict arbiter of justice. Anakin…Anakin had wanted to save the universe.

_Anakin wanted to save himself from loss._

“No,” Obi-wan murmured against the treacherous thought that dangled outside his ear, tickled the rage building in his chest. “No. No… He couldn’t have…”

But he’d seen the tapes. No one had destroyed them or altered them. In fact, they had been left intact deliberately. Sidious must have known Obi-wan would want answers, would want a name to attribute to this massacre, and he had used that knowledge against him. Sidious wanted him to seek out Anakin, but to what end?

_“Master Skywalker, there are too many of them. What are we going to do?”_

He’d seen the tapes. He knew the truth, and as Yoda had warned, they brought only pain. Agony such as he’d never known.

_He is like my brother. I cannot do it._

He had to do it. For Bant, and Plo and Mace and… And everyone. Yoda had said he would know the way if he searched his feelings. Obi-wan carefully grabbed the Force, though he knew it would only cement what he was already thinking. There was only one other person who would know the whereabouts of Skywalker; and be able to lead him there. Maybe even save him. Obi-wan’s hand clenched on his saber. If Padme couldn’t save him, then Obi-wan would…. Would do what he must.

One way or another.


	2. The One With Eyes Closed

He had fought Anakin before. They sparred regularly, as a game, to practice new moves or styles, to ease boredom or stress. Obi-wan Kenobi had clashed blades with Anakin Skywalker more times than he had taken breath. It wasn’t always in the best of spirits. Anakin was naturally competitive and emotional. Sometimes, especially after losing his arm to Dooku, he had let those emotions get out of hand and Obi-wan had found himself on the blunt end of a power the Jedi had never seen.

It had always inspired a spark of fear in him.

Anakin, to him, was the boy from Tatooine no taller than his hip. The reckless, stubborn man who protected his troops and respected them like friends, who bickered with his apprentice and teased Obi-wan mercilessly. But when he’d slackened the leash on his control, those pieces of his identity had vanished and Obi-wan had gotten a glimpse of the man he saw now. A very dangerous predator. A jealous and mindless beast.

Darth Vader.

It had always been inside him. Obi-wan had just never wanted to see it. His attachment had blinded him. It blinded him now, for even on the melting hills of Mustafar, Obi-wan would have given anything not to fight his old friend. If Anakin had simply listened to Padme’s pleas, had dropped his weapon when she tried to convince him to run away, then Obi-wan would have let them go. He didn’t want this. He never wanted this…

But he was Jedi, sworn to destroy the Sith.

He’d just never thought the Sith would wear Anakin’s face, so Obi-wan raised his lightsaber in the forbidden Tsun-Tsu slice, felt a jolt against his blade as he severed limbs from the main body as smoothly as if Anakin had been made of ribbon. He heard the soft thud of body against magma, Anakin’s scream of agony, felt the Force shake. But he never saw any of it. Like he’d always done when Anakin’s less heroic side came out, he turned his head and did not look.

Maybe that was why they were here now, on this lava bed. Obi-wan opened his eyes, still hoping that it was all a dream, but the heat was so real, and the sweat stung his skin and Anakin was still screaming. He lay just beyond the lava and Obi-wan flinched at the red-rimmed eyes, the gold glaring back at him.

“I HATE YOU!”

Yes, Obi-wan imagined he would. He opened and closed his mouth several times, wracking his mind for something to say. His heart hammered against his ribs. He wanted to reply that he hated Anakin too. That he had stolen everything from Obi-wan. He wanted to yell that Anakin had not only betrayed The Jedi but his mother, Padme, Qui-gon, Ahsoka, _everyone_ they had both ever loved. He wanted to weep. He wanted to cry that he loved Anakin, that he was his brother.

Then what? Would he stab him through the heart? Let him melt into the lava? Would he lift, him with the Force and crush his every bone until his heart burst in his chest? Obi-wan didn’t feel very inclined to any of those options. He wanted to sink into a hole and never come out. He wanted to have died on Utapau.

He wanted to wake up.

But no words came, for in the next moment, amidst the tears trailing down Anakin’s face, true fear sprouted in his eyes. “Save her, master!” He cried hoarsely. “Please, save my family!” Then his leg touched the lava and immediately burst into flames. Obi-wan gasped as the sharp agony ricocheted in the Force, Anakin’s screams like lance’s in his chest.

_Defeat the Sith, we must._

Yes. But before Obi-wan had agreed to kill Anakin, he had made another promise. To Qui-gon, to Anakin, to himself. He had sworn to train the boy, he had promised the boy he would be a Jedi, he had promised to protect this lost life before him with his own.

So Obi-wan gripped Anakin’s chest with the Force, closed his eyes, and _yanked._ Anakin landed at his feet with a thump and a low groan. His head of curly hair brushed Obi-wan’s foot as he fell unconscious. The lightsaber on his hip trembled, the crystal inside hissing at the Dark Lord. Obi-wan’s eyes fluttered open and his heart imploded at his own daring, his own _stupidity._

But he did not push Anakin away. Instead, he gently stooped to haul the torso of his old friend into his arms. Then he stood on trembling legs; and carried the limp form of this murderer up the bank, past Padme, into the ship, and laid him down on a medical cot. Later, he would lift Padme into the ship as well and rendezvous with Bail Organa. Padme would give birth to twins, falling ill in the process. But she’d live. Anakin would live. The Skywalkers lived.

Obi-wan Kenobi watched it all with wide, incomprehensible eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Wednesday. This one was inspired by the famous picture of Obi-wan and Anakin fighting over the Volcano spew on Mustafar. I always thought Obi-wan's eyes were closed when they locked hands.


	3. The One Wasted

Yoda did not defeat Sidious.

Obi-wan nearly laughed at the irony.

He, _Obi-wan_ , wasn’t powerful enough to destroy the Dark Lord? Apparently neither was Yoda. Even _funnier_ , Obi-wan wasn’t strong enough to kill anyone. Bail stood between him and Master Yoda, arms crossed, eyes dancing between the two Jedi nervously. Obi-wan stood in front of the medical bay on Alderran, hands on the sabers at his hip. One was his, the other Anakin’s. Inside the room, Darth Vader was barely holding onto consciousness.

He had only woken to meet his children anyway.

A nurse was holding them for him. Luke and Leia. Padme was still asleep, having lost a lot of blood and shortly after breastfeeding, consciousness altogether. Bail hadn’t spoken a word when he noticed Sidious’s new apprentice being loaded into his home. He had only met Obi-wan’s eyes, and whatever he saw there was enough to stay his tongue. Obi-wan might have been grateful if he could feel anything at all.

Yoda was not so meek. “Done, what have you?” The Jedi Master rasped, glaring into his eyes with all the ferociousness of an Akul.

“I told you I couldn’t do it.”

“A Sith he is!” Yoda snapped. He jerked one clawed finger into the room. “A murderer! Destroy the Temple he has! Deny it, do you?”

“No, Master.”

“Yet save him you have.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Why?” Bail peeped, from the sidelines. Obi-wan did not turn to him. Yoda narrowed his eyes.

“Because blind, is Obi-wan,” he answered curtly. “Blind he always has been, when come to Skywalker, it does. Attachment drives his motives. Disgrace it is, the reason for our current predicament,” Obi-wan, once, might have flinched away from such an accusation. It would have been enough to force him to his knees. Not now. He was too tired.

“He asked me to save his family, Master,” he explained, feeling as if he could sleep for at least two thousand years. Would that be enough time for him to wake up? “In the moments before he was going to join the Force, that’s all he wanted. That was _Anakin_ pleading with me for help…”

Yoda swatted at his shins with his cane. Obi-wan stepped out of the way. “A Sith trick! So easily manipulated, are you?” Obi-wan’s mind flashed back to those tiny seconds when he had met Anakin’s gaze.

“I suppose so,” he whispered.

Yoda felt like a supernova in the Force, a maelstrom of fury and disappointment and guilt. “Move aside. Finish this, I will,” he commanded. Obi-wan nearly did so out of habit. He had never even considered disobeying Master Yoda when he took that tone. But it was as he had said:

“I cannot, Master,” he spread his legs into defensive stance, fingers twitching over the sabers. Yoda’s form rattled with his sigh.

“Fight you, must I also?” Silence. Yoda took it as an affirmative. “Take the children I shall,” Yoda said, and it sounded more like a threat than a statement. “Train them in Jedi Ways.”

“Master Yoda, surely…” Bail protested. Obi-wan shook his head.

“I cannot allow that either, my Master.”

“Defeat me, you cannot,” at that, Obi-wan smiled. It was a brittle, painful thing he saw reflected in Yoda’s large emerald eyes, but he smiled.

“Oh, I’m aware, Master Yoda. But I will die before I allow you in that room,” he agreed. “So if you’re going to kill me, now is the time.” Bail inhaled a sharp breath. Yoda, for a moment, looked as if he would do it. Obi-wan did not look away.

Not this time.

At length, the old Master just shook his head, gaze never faltering. “Kill you, I will not,” he decided, to Obi-wan surprise. “No. Do it for me, your shame will, or else Vader.” Then the diminutive master swiveled on his feet and started down the opposite way, grunting as he went. A trickle of sweat ran down Obi-wan’s brow.

“Master Yoda, where are you going?” Bail called. Yoda did not turn around.

“Into hiding, I must go. Searching for remaining Jedi, is Darth Sidious. Too dangerous it is for me to remain here with you. Thank you, for your compassion, I do senator. A good man you are.” Bail blinked rapidly; his regal face morphed into astonishment.

Obi-wan took a step forward, hand outstretched “Master…” He began. _I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me here alone. Let me explain. Tell me how to go on._

“Speak to me not, Obi-wan Kenobi!” Yoda shouted with such vitriol the Force shook. Obi-wan shivered, let his hand drop back to his side. “A greater waste of potential, there has never been.” Obi-wan’s frame shook as the words sent an electric current down his spine. A sob wrestled its way up his throat. He bowed his head.

Inside, one of the babies wailed.

“Obi-wan?” Bail asked softly when Yoda vanished.

Obi-wan turned to the man. “May we stay here for a while longer, Bail?” He asked, somehow managing to exude serenity when he felt as if he had just been blown to pieces. Bail hesitated, then nodded slowly.

“Just until Padme is ready to leave the bed. I can’t risk my people,” he said apologetically. That was true. Sidious would come for Anakin. Obi-wan inclined his head.

“I understand. Thank you. Please let me know when Padme wakes up.” He wanted to find a corner to pass out in. Bail stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“For what its worth, Obi-wan,” the Senator broached carefully. “I think you acted with honor.” 

“Thank you, Bail,” Obi-wan snatched the edges of his cloak nearer, feeling suddenly as if he had been cast naked into the rain. “But you’re wrong, honor had no hand in it. It was merely cowardice.” He slipped from under Bail’s grip silently; and made his way to the nearest corner to weep his heart out.


	4. The One Who Is Called

Leia was especially fond of bawling her eyes out. She would start up at the merest provocation and not quiet until whatever problem was solved, or she cried herself to sleep. Most times, the solution was simple. She needed food or to be changed or to be held. Padme, as weak as she was, insisted on feeding the babies herself. She held them when she could. Anakin had been outfitted with prosthetic limbs courtesy of Bail Organa. Obi-wan knew because Bail had told him. Obi-wan dared not step into Anakin’s medchamber.

However, tonight Leia was screaming loud enough to wake the dead. Her nurses, exhausted and exasperated, tried rocking her to sleep, feeding and changing her. Nothing worked. She had to be separated from Luke. Padme fell into a deep, coma-like sleep twenty minutes into the interaction, sapped of energy. Anakin could not be woken. Even the stars shied away from her misery, the night sky bleeding exasperation at its newest resident.

Obi-wan couldn’t sleep anyway, so he commandeered the child as her nurse passed by his rooms. She was all too happy and relieved to give him the squealing life-form. Obi-wan sank against the durasteel of his rooms, let moonlight bathe them from the large windows adjacent in the hallway. He settled the tiny baby against his raised knees and let her suck on his thumb.

Leia quieted, at last. The nurses thanked him and made their leave. Then it was only he and the girl, an old soul and a new one stranded in a galaxy at war. Obi-wan had held babies and children before. Numerous times, but he’d very rarely studied them like he studied Leia. She had the soft, angelic face of her mother, but he could already tell she would have a temper like her father. No wonder she was keeping everyone awake.

She was strong in the Force. She could probably sense the deaths happening out there.

“I’m crying too,” he whispered to her as Leia studied him just as intensely. “Just silently,” he bled tears in the Force, screamed and raged. He’d already broken at least four mugs accidentally. Leia made a gurgling noise around his thumb, soaking it in drool. She cocked her head, curiosity propelling her large head forward. She bumped against his chest and tugged at his beard. Very much her father’s child. He lifted her head for her and swiped away a bit of spit-up with the edge of his cloak. He hadn’t changed clothes since the battle. He had no idea how long it had been; time was… Elusive to him nowadays.

_Obi-wan._

Leia perked up. “Oh, you hear that too, do you?” Obi-wan murmured “That’s the sound of imminent insanity, little one.” Leia’s round eyes widened even further, somehow. She grinned as she flailed handfuls of his beard, removing a few crinkled strands which she then stuffed into her mouth.

_Obi-wan. Listen to me._

“I can hear you,” Obi-wan sighed, leaning his head against the door to save the remainder of his beard. Leia whined, struggled to eat more of his hair. “But I won’t.”

_Obi-wan. Not all is lost._

“Abaga Bifrsishmeeee!” Leia informed the disembodied voice sternly. Obi-wan’s mouth quirked at the edges, though nothing but flatness echoed in his chest. He felt separated from his body, floating in a space between love and hate, trembling on the precipice of despair and fury.

_Let me show you the way._

The Way? The Way to what? Obi-wan sighed and adjusted himself so that the ground was not digging into his tailbone. His knees creaked. He was too old for this. Leia made an upset noise. He bounced her again. “We can’t keep doing this, you know,” he cautioned her. “Someday, you’re going to have to learn how to sleep through the night without crying.”

Leia laughed at him. Of course she did.

_Obi-wan. Please. Do not be afraid._

“Master Qui-gon heard voices,” he confided in the baby. “Right before he was called to study with the Whills. He used to grumble at them. But The Whills don’t officially exist, do they Leia? Even if they did, Sidious would have executed them all like he did…” His voice hitched in his throat. Leia bumped his chest with her head again, affectionately, then snuggled closer to him.

“Hish Hish baga hish?” She asked.

“That’s what I’d like to know, yes,” he agreed. “What now?” The question floated between them like shards of glass, twinkling in the dim moonlight but sharp enough to tear. Leia opened and closed her fists over his heart. He could sense her tumbling into sleep peacefully. She continued to gurgle against his chest, asking impossible questions and sassing him for his cluelessness, no doubt.

_Now you finish your training. Now you become who you were always meant to be._

“Don’t you know?” He slurred. “I’m a waste of potential.” Master Yoda said so. The dead Jedi whispered it to him, and so did the man lying prone in a medcenter several halls down and the universe and the crumpled Republic and…

And Obi-wan was tired. He let his eyes flutter closed with Leia sound asleep against the heart he wished would cease beating. A whisper against his ear caressed the saber at his hip, brushed hair away from his face.

_Its not too late._

_You’re the key._

_Just come to me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I had any talent with drawing, painting or the visual arts I would have created a portrait of Obi-wan sitting in an abandoned hallway surrounded by moonlight and talking to a baby Leia. But hey, I'm a writer, so I hope you saw it well enough through words.


	5. The One Who Would Break

Ahsoka Tano, two weeks after Order 66, was still strong in the Force.

They stared at each other, silently. Obi-wan did not explain. She’d felt the Jedi Order fall in the Force, he was sure. He did not ask Ahsoka where she was, that was dangerous information and a favor he could not reciprocate. He was lucky she had been able to get in touch with him at all, only Bail’s strong connections in the Senate able to allow them this small moment.

“Are you safe?” He asked. He sounded hoarse even to his own ears, as if he had been screaming. Ahsoka crossed her arms, did not meet his gaze. He could see the bags lining the underside of her eyes.

“For now.”

“I’m glad,” he was, even if he could hardly comprehend it. “Master Yoda is alive. He’s gone into hiding.” Ahsoka nodded. If she were reassured by Yoda’s survival, she did not show it.

“I found some younglings hiding in the Courascanti Underground,” she told him. “I smuggled them off-planet, to a secure location.” He nodded. How secure would such a hiding spot be, especially for younglings who had not yet mastered the art of hiding themselves in the Force? They would be hunted down. He would feel their murders too.

“I saw the Temple tapes,” Ahsoka breathed. “Rex and I, we saw… Is it true?” She had company. Rex. The name triggered a flash of alarm, but he trusted Ahsoka’s judgement. Besides, there were other matters at hand here.

“Yes.”

“Is he dead?”

“No. I couldn’t do it.”

He almost hoped Ahsoka would volunteer to kill him. Instead she gave Obi-wan a small, relieved smile. “So, he’s with you?” She asked.

“Yes, he and… His family,” at Ahsoka’s quirked brows, he shrugged. “Padme gave birth. To twins. His children.”

Ahsoka inhaled a sharp breath, eyes wide. Sudden realization echoed between them. Obi-wan had always suspected Ahsoka knew about Anakin and Padme’s relationship, but neither of them had ever thought they’d be so idiotic as to take it that far. Ahsoka spent a good ten seconds cursing in Mando. He listened, enraptured by the fluency of her tongue. Ahsoka abruptly halted in the middle of calling Anakin a very unflattering name to pinch the bridge of her nose. Then she looked at him. “How do they look?”

“Beautiful,” he admitted.

“Are they Force-sensitive?”

“Very much so,” High Midi-Chlorian counts, like their father. “Sidious will be looking for them if he hasn’t started searching already. We are all of us in grave danger.” He didn’t mind so much for himself, but Leia’s curious eyes robbed him of sleep most nights. He did not want to see them flooded with gold.

“I have some contacts in the underground. I can help hide them,” Ahsoka said immediately. Obi-wan did not ask where she had come across these contacts. He didn’t want to know. He only nodded. “A rebellion is already brewing,” she cocked her head. “Where will you go, Master?”

“I’m not a Master anymore,” he blurted, because it seemed most important. Ahsoka scowled. He stuffed his hands into his pockets. He had those now. He had burned his old cloak and tunics, dirtied and blood-stained. He wore a simple blue shirt with gold stitching and black pants. He looked older in it. “I don’t know where I’m going. Sidious knows I have Anakin. He’ll try searching for him through me, so I need to lure him away,” it was the only plan he had so far. Ahsoka’s scowl deepened, and now worry lay in the shadows behind her eyes.

“Sidious will find you,” she pointed out. This was inevitable. The Force rang with the truth of it. Obi-wan nodded.

“One day, yes.”

Ahsoka fell silent, shifting in place uncomfortably. “Master…”

He closed his eyes as a fresh wave of pain strangled him. “I’m not a…”

“I don’t call you that because you’re a Jedi,” Ahsoka interrupted smoothly. “I call you that because you helped raise me and I love you.” Well then. He shook away the instinctive ache her words inspired. His Grand-Padawan. What did it matter now, anyway? Sidious would find him one day. “I know what you must be feeling, but the Rebellion could use your help.”

“I have nothing to give them,” Ahsoka looked on the edge of smacking him. Good thing she was lightyears away. “I mean it,” he interjected before she could protest. “I’m done.”

Her eyes flashed. “So, that’s it, you’re just going to quit, _run_ away? The Obi-wan Kenobi I knew…”

“That Obi-wan Kenobi was murdered by virtue of Order 66,” Ahsoka’s jaw clicked shut. “He died when he saw the tape of his closest friend kneeling before a Sith Lord. He died when he dismembered Anakin Skywalker on the planet Mustafar. He dies a little more every day I draw breath.”

Ahsoka’s eyes were limpid with compassion. “You can’t let this break you, Obi-wan,” she whispered.

“It’s too late,” he tapped at the console, fingers flying from muscle memory rather than actual passion. “I’m sending you coordinates for a rendezvous point. Go there. Someone will escort you _here_ so that you can get the Skywalker’s to a safe house. I’ll lure Sidious away. You must protect the twins at all costs. Anakin will be unable for quite a while.”

“But…”

“This, I imagine, is the last time we’ll see each other,” he dared to stare into her face, memorizing the features. Then he bowed at the waist in a sign of respect only given to the highest masters of the old Order. “It was my honor to know you, Ahsoka Tano. Stay safe,” he banished the holo-gram before the words _I love you_ could wriggle out.

He had loved other Padawans once.

Now the universe burned.

 _I will never,_ he swore vehemently. _Love again._


	6. The One With Plans

On the first day of their third week, Padme Amidala-Skywalker asked for his company.

She was sitting up in bed, cradling Luke to her breast. Obi-wan could see the globular outline of his head beneath the thin blanket as he suckled. He looked away instinctively, but could not help but sigh at the serenity, the pure peace in this room.

Padme’s eyes brightened when she saw him.

“I don’t have the words to thank you,” she choked, grabbing his hand when he came nearer. Leia was asleep in a tiny crib nearby. He stared at her sleeping face, smooth and untouched by strife. He wanted it to remain that way forever. With difficulty, he wrestled his gaze back to Padme. She grinned up at him tiredly. “Without you, my children would be orphans.”

_Obi-wan. Listen to me now._

“We cannot stay here much longer,” he told her. “Sidious is looking for you. He wants The Twins,” Padme paled.

“He’ll take my babies? To be trained as Sith?” She gulped.

“That is his ultimate goal, yes,” he agreed. Luke snuffled against her chest and she patted his back comfortingly. “Not to worry. I’ve already contacted Ahsoka…”

“She’s alive!?”

“Yes. She is going to come get the four of you and keep you hidden. She’ll protect the twins while Anakin is,” he spat out the next word. “Healing.”

Padme studied him with the same intensity as her daughter. “Anakin and I dreamed of raising them on Naboo,” she admitted, and he gave a start. She and Anakin had _planned_ this? All along?

“Impossible,” he gentled his voice when Padme cringed. “Sidious will look there first Padme. You cannot go anywhere he may suspect. Bail and I were thinking to send you to Tatooine.”

Padme nodded. “I understand,” she said, then her head swiveled around to stare at Leia. Something like silent communication went between them. Leia stretched in bed, wriggled, before settling back down into sleep. Padme relaxed. “We never meant for this to happen, you know,” she whispered. “We were going to do things right. After the war, he was going to resign from the Order, and I was going to leave the Senate… We would have been happy.”

Obi-wan did not have anything to say to that. Padme’s words might have been a comfort in another life, if their plans had actually come to fruition. But it wasn’t up to them, any of them, now.

_Obi-wan. Hear me. Come to me._

So he merely stood and listened to Luke slurp at life. “Bail told me what you did for Anakin. How you protected him from Yoda. How you protected all of us,” Padme gnawed her bottom lip. Her large chocolate eyes swept over his face, probably trying to gauge his reaction. When she saw none, her gut clenched. He felt echoes of it in his own stomach. “That must have been hard for you.”

“These past few weeks haven’t been easy,” he replied, because irony and sarcasm had always been his means of coping. He could still smell the char of Mustafar, still hear Aayla’s dying groans.

“Bail said he’s never seen you cry before,” Padme pressed. “Not even in torture.”

It wasn’t like her to dance around the point, and he was too emotionally exhausted to play the game with her. He hitched his thumbs into his pocket. “What do you want me to say, Padme?”

She reached out now, almost desperately, and took his hand. Pressed the back of it to her lips in a chaste kiss. “Nothing! I don’t want you say anything, Obi-wan, I just… I suppose I’m trying to say _thank you,”_ a tear seeped down her cheek. He wiped it away with a thumb because Padme’s pain made Leia fuss again _._

 _“_ To say that I am _so_ sorry for the part we played in… In all of this. I should have come to you when Anakin started having visions. I should have encouraged him to talk to you more. I should have voiced my concerns about The Chancellor earlier…” Her shame was a puddle compared to the ocean he harbored inside of him, and more drops were enough to stir his rage back to life. He snatched his hand away.

“Promise me something,” he blurted, halting her rant. Padme's jaw snapped closed. She swiped at the wetness along her cheeks.

“Anything,” she swore.

“Promise me that if… If Anakin shows signs of becoming that… That _monster_ again, you’ll finish what I started,” Padme recoiled as if he had just shocked her. She placed a hand over Luke’s ears.

“You’re asking me to kill my husband. The father of my _children_ ,” her voice was cool.

“I’m asking you to protect your children,” Obi-wan carefully extracted Anakin’s lightsaber from his inside shirt pocket. The crystal inside was… Shrunken, crushed beneath the weight of children’s murders. Yet it was defense.

It would have to be enough.

Padme covered her mouth, her disgust like a live thing. He forced it between her fingers, placed the responsibility firmly into her hands. “This began with you and him,” he rasped. “Let it end there. Protect them. At all costs. Promise me, Padme.”

Her fingers wrapped around the lightsaber. “Force forgive me,” she prayed fervently. “I promise.”

“Thank you,” he straightened. “Ahsoka should be landing within sixteen hours. You should prepare yourself. It will be a long journey.” Padme nodded, slipped the saber into her shirt beside Luke’s body. Another pact she’d made with her children.

“May the Force Be with you,” she said numbly. Obi-wan leaned over, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and slipped out of the door silently.


	7. The One Who Laughs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This broke my heart to write. Don't worry. Next installment things get better!

Obi-wan Kenobi had resigned himself to a nomadic life. The Jedi’s calling took them to odd and obscure places all the time. The Temple was home insomuch as it was where he had been raised, but he had spent weeks and sometimes a year away from that place. Master Qui-gon had been a restless soul, and Obi-wan had inherited that trait. He’d inherited the worst parts of his master, it seemed.

_Obi-wan._

“I’m coming,” he growled. It was entirely possible that these voices were from Sidious himself, a trick of the Dark Side. Obi-wan almost hoped that was it. He would take these broiling emotions of numbness and grief and rage and despair to the Emperor himself, making him pay for what he’d done to the Jedi and Anakin.

Obi-wan Kenobi might die a Sith, but he was wasted potential anyway. He plopped into the pilot’s seat of the small Alderranian vessel Bail had gifted him. He’d always hated flying, but at least this was his last voyage. Ahsoka had already landed on planet, was transferring Padme, Anakin, and the twins into her own ship. 

He flipped the overhead compression sensors on. “Uh… You won’t be able to lift off without emptying out the funnel valves,” Obi-wan gasped and swiveled around.

Behind him, sitting erect and a bit awkwardly in a wheelchair, was Anakin Skywalker. The black metal of his prosthetic legs and arms were like staring at burned skeletal bones. Obi-wan’s chest clenched at the reminder of what he’d done.

More than that, Anakin’s sheepish face sent shivers down his spine. The last time he’d seen him… Artoo Detoo let out a few shrill beeps behind him, inconspicuously rolling over to plug into the console and begin emptying out said valves. Obi-wan let him. He couldn’t look away from Anakin. The murderer.

“You’re supposed to be on Ahsoka’s ship,” he pointed out when it didn’t look as if Anakin was going to start the conversation.

“I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye,” Anakin’s eyes were so different, the same hue of ocean blue that Obi-wan remembered. The eyes he had seen filled with joy and sickness and admiration and laughter.

Now he saw nothing but the Husk of the Jedi Temple. Anakin’s fingers tapped a nervous rhythm on his armrests. He inhaled a shuddering breath and looked up. “Or… Or I’m sorry. Obi-wan, there aren’t words…”

That was true. “Then why are you here?” Obi-wan interrupted irritably.

_Obi-wan, come now. There is much for you to learn._

“I’m only trying… You saved my life, but you did so much more, you… You saved my _soul_ ,” Anakin stammered.

The Jedi Master did not blink. If he did, he was afraid he would wake up. He would wake up in a time when he had been friends with the murderer before him. He would have to relive this trauma _again._ “Yes. I did.”

_Obi-wan. Say goodbye and come._

Anakin hung his head. The Force around him, powerful, overwhelming, like a tsunami about to crush the shore, wavered with emotion. “I don’t deserve your compassion. The things I’ve done...”

“I saw firsthand what you did,” he snapped. “Do you know why I saved you, Anakin?” A shy shake of the head. “You were my brother and there was no one I respected more. I saved you because three weeks ago, being your mentor and friend was the greatest honor of my life. I loved you, Anakin, more than my own life,” Obi-wan answered succinctly.

Artoo whirred sadly. Anakin’s face was that of a man who had just been gutted alive. “You… I… I didn’t…”

“Now,” Obi-wan continued huskily past the lump in his throat. “There is nothing that I regret more than having ever met you.”

Anakin reached out a hand, beseechingly. “Master, _please_ …”

“Leave me,” he ordered. “There is nothing for you here. I saved you. I saved your family and now I will lure Sidious away, but know _this,_ Anakin Skywalker,” he lowered his voice, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Took some satisfaction from watching the heartbreak enlarge Anakin’s pupils until they were merely slits of black swimming in tears. Now he felt a _modicum_ of the pain Obi-wan had felt at losing everything. Over and over and over.

He had nothing more to learn from loss. He was done. “If I somehow survive this, I _never_ want to see your face again.” Obi-wan Kenobi turned his back on the skeleton of his friend, just as Anakin had turned his back on him. “Artoo, get him out of my sight,” he commanded.

Artoo backed away under his gaze, rumbling back to where Anakin was. He tapped his domed head against the back of his wheelchair. Anakin did not fight back. He simply sat like a puppet with cut strings. Just as Artoo reached the lowered ramp, however, he threw out a mechno-hand and clung to the ship with weakened strength.

“I know you hate me,” he cried quickly. “I deserve it, but you’re stronger than this, Master. You’re stronger than hate, you’re stronger than the Dark! No matter where I go, I will _never_ stop being grateful for the gift of your presence in my life,” he released his hold on Obi-wan’s ship and let Artoo push him away. Obi-wan barely heard them exit. He was already rising from the ground, teeth clenched so hard he felt blood trickle from his tongue.

_Come now._

He did not have coordinates, or even a guarantee that he would survive the next twenty-four hours, but for the first time in weeks, Obi-wan smiled. Savagely, vengefully, heart pounding inside a chest long cold. He did not look back as his ship shot into space, too quickly to be safe but he didn’t care.

For the first time in his life, he didn’t care about _anything_ or _anyone_.

Somewhere on a half-built Death Star, Darth Sidious cocked his head and steepled his fingers together. His mouth puckered into a slithering grin.

And he laughed.


	8. The One Who Lit The Pyre

_Stop playing around._

“You call this-” Obi-wan wrenched the controls sharply to the left, his stomach flipping as the ship rolled into a tight dive between two asteroids. “Playing around?!” he squawked.

One of the Empire ships trailing him crashed into a moving asteroid and burst into flames. The screams of the clones inside sounded like gravel against his senses. The Jedi had screamed too. Obi-wan glanced down at the radar. He still had five ships on his tail, and beyond the asteroid field an entire Star Cruiser.

Moments, maybe hours earlier, the booming voice of Tarkin (the traitor, he’d always knew he would be a traitor) had jolted him awake. Obi-wan had fallen asleep in the cockpit of his tiny ship while waiting for Sidious to track him _. “Surrender, Jedi. Give us Darth Vader and we will spare your life,”_ Tarkin had demanded.

Now Obi-wan glided between the heavy asteroid belt, palms clammy. The five ships behind him let out a barrage of blaster fire. His ship’s rear defensive cannons were gone.

_Obi-wan, come._

The voice was even more of a bother than the blasted Empire. He sent the ship into a spiraling climb, dodged an asteroid just barely. Two more ships were crushed. Crystals of fresh blood floated in space like diamonds. Obi-wan bit his tongue as an asteroid bumped the right side of his ship. His ears roared with blood as it careened out of control.

He waited to hit another asteroid and explode.

It never happened. His ship instead began to slow down, twirling to a light stop in between two large asteroids. Obi-wan rubbed his aching head dizzily. Honestly, couldn’t Tarkin just use bio-scanners and discover that it was, in fact, _only_ him on board? Was that so difficult?

The three remaining ships slowly ascended into his viewport. Obi-wan’s fingers clenched around the controls, instinctively, watched as the unsuspecting targets succumbed to his fire. The debris and broken bones flitted about with the asteroids, like petals twirling from their tree branches. Obi-wan leaned back in his seat, let his arms hang by his sides, and exhaled.

“Why?” He whispered to the voice, the stars, the Force. “Why shouldn’t I just go out there and let Tarkin blast me into oblivion?”

The voice dropped out of his mind like an interrupted crescendo.

Obi-wan jolted. He had not realized how… Present the voice was. As close as a Force bond. Now, he was utterly alone. Floating in space, surrounded by enemies, without allies. He had been in this situation before, but… An asteroid passed by, then another. Pieces of stolen life smacked into his bow. Obi-wan looked around.

Was the voice Dark or Light?

Was this a sign or not? At least dead he could join The Force before he lost his mind. At least then this… This gnawing emptiness and grief inside him would finally be extinguished. Loneliness and desolation rose, a mountain of impossible choices spread out before him. Each impossible choice needled beneath his skin. Obi-wan felt tears prick his eyes.

He had cried more in the past few weeks than he had in years, but when _these_ tears trickled down his face, they tasted of ashes. Suddenly, something near his hip began to vibrate, just slightly. It was his lightsaber. Obi-wan passed a hand over it, found the metal hot and angry to the touch. And he knew the truth.

This was would be the end to the once great Obi-wan Kenobi.

_Qui-gon’s Loyal Pathetic Life form._

He pulled out from behind the asteroid field.

_Negotiator._

Tarkin’s fleet sat in space, foreboding, larger than mountains. Obi-wan pressed the tiny vessel faster, faster, aiming for the bridge. 

_Survivor._

Blaster shots soared past him. He’d never liked flying but he had seen Anakin do this a thousand times.

_Other Half of the Team._

Almost there. Obi-wan wrapped his fingers around the gearshift. The bridge was so close now he could hear the sirens shrieking behind the thick glass. There were fighters behind him, and only the Force saved him from destruction at their hands.

_General of the 332 nd. _

He could even see Tarkin now, standing erect and proud on his bridge as clones scattered. He met Obi-wan’s eyes. The pale blue orbs held no fear or surprise. In fact, one side of his mouth quirked.

_Council Member._

“Jedi scum,” Tarkin’s lips mouthed. “I’ll see you in Hell.”

_Grand-Master._

Obi-wan yanked on the hard paneling of the yolk. His ship gave a shocked little shake, like a colt stumbling to its feet, then leapt into hyperspace. Obi-wan did not wait to see if the fighters crashed into the bridge as he’d planned. It didn’t matter now. Instead, he typed coordinates into the nav-computer.

_Mentor._

His shoulders slowly unwound, one painstaking muscle at a time, until he slumped boneless into his seat and watched the rapid colors of hyperspace devour him. The crystal inside the saber splintered into dust. It went still, the bloodied hand of a soldier who had drawn their last breath. He had set his own funeral pyre. Now it was nothing more than a metal casket holding the ashes of a broken man.

_Jedi._

“I’m coming,” he murmured. “I’m coming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel installment coming next Wednesday. Have a good rest of your week!


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